The Drifter (16 page)

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Authors: Richie Tankersley Cusick

BOOK: The Drifter
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Joss's glance slid smoothly back over his shoulder … settled onto her face. “I don't know what you mean.”

“Where were you when I first called?” Tears sprang to Carolyn's eyes, and she fiercely blinked them back. “When that door blew open, and it sounded like a hurricane in the hall?”

“Asleep. The wind blows strongest at my corner of the house—it's hard to hear anything—
especially
when you're asleep.”

“Then how did you finally hear me in time? Just in time to keep me from falling? And how did you know where I was—and how did you get there so fast and—”

“Stop it, Carolyn,” Joss said. He had ahold of her shoulders now, shaking her gently. “You've been through a lot tonight; you need some rest. Things will look a lot different in the morning—”


No!

She wrenched from his grasp, but he was still staring at her—his dark, dark eyes pulling her in, holding her, until she couldn't move … couldn't even breathe …

“Who
are
you?” Carolyn whispered.

Joss said nothing.

He took one step toward her, but Carolyn turned and ran to her room.

17

“I
T'S EIGHT IN THE MORNING
. W
HAT ARE YOU DOING
here?”

Carolyn stopped on the front porch and frowned at the figure lounging there on the steps at her feet.

“Hi.” Andy grinned. “How's it going?”

“Terrible, if you must know,” Carolyn muttered, and he jumped up in alarm.

“Is your mom worse? What happened?”

Carolyn glared at him. Joss's words of wisdom still rang in her ears, and as much as she hated to admit it, last night almost
did
seem like a bad dream. The storm had given way to thick wet fog, the wind had calmed to a playful gustiness, and now, instead of lightning and thunder, there was only the rumble and crash of the sea.

She shook her head in wry amusement. So things looked a lot different after all, but that didn't change the fact that she'd fallen from the widow's walk last night—that she'd nearly been killed—
that Joss kissed me
—

“Tell me,” Andy insisted, and with a shock, Carolyn realized he was holding both her hands, trying to get her attention.

“No,” she mumbled, “no, it's not my mom. I called about an hour ago; she was still sleeping. They say she's going to be okay, but she'll still need to stay there awhile. And they don't really want her to have any visitors yet.”

“Sounds good.” Andy smiled. When Carolyn didn't return it, he stepped back and fixed her with a quizzical stare. “So what's wrong? You look awful.”

“Thanks.”

“Come on, Carolyn—I drove all the way out here to see you, and that Joss guy was hammering so loud I had to scream at him, and then he finally answered the door and hardly said two words to me and—” He broke off, eyes narrowing. “Did something happen last night? Are you all right?”

“Yes, something did happen, and yes, I'm all right.” Carolyn sighed.

“Wait! Where you going?”

“For a walk. Are you coming with me, or do I have to keep shouting?”

“Whoa!” Andy gave an exaggerated shudder and fell into step beside her. “Someone must have gotten up on the wrong side of bed this morning.”

“Sorry,” she relented. “It's not your fault I'm in such a rotten mood.”

“Well, that's a relief. And since you're obviously not going to tell me what's going on, I might as well tell you why I came out here to see you.”

“Are you sure you want to? I might bite your head off.”

“I thought we could go into the village and spend the day together. The music competition's this afternoon—and then a food fair tonight. Should be lots of fun.”

“I don't feel much like fun. I wouldn't
be
much fun.”

“Hey, give me a little credit. Would I have asked you to go if I thought we'd have a terrible time?”

She shook her head, smiling a little. “I shouldn't, you know. I should stay here and work on the house. There's so much to do, I don't even know where to start.”

“I thought that's what Joss was here for,” Andy reminded her. “And anyway, you'll have plenty of time to get the place in shape. The festival only lasts through the weekend, and you've got the rest of your life to work on the house.”

“Oh, Andy”—Carolyn sighed—“the rest of my life was down to about one second last night.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

The smile she gave him was strained. “Let's not go into it right now. Not here, anyway.”

“Okay,” he said slowly, his face puzzled. “Whenever you're ready, I'm all ears.”

“Let me get my jacket.”

They went back to the house, and Andy waited while Carolyn hunted for her coat. She could hear Joss working on the back porch, and as she went into the kitchen, she found Nora at the sink, polishing a silver tea service.

“Oh, hi, Nora. I didn't hear you come in.”

The housekeeper glanced up but said nothing. She rubbed fiercely at the teapot with her rag.

“He told me. What happened last night.”

“Who, Joss?” Carolyn was surprised. “You mean about the accident?”

“You
think
it was an accident.” Nora's eyes flicked to Carolyn's face, then back again to her work. “Well, it wasn't. You still don't believe. Even after my warning. Well, you deserve it, then. You deserve anything that happens. I can't save you from trouble if you don't want to be saved.”

She turned and left the room, leaving Carolyn to stare openmouthed. A second later the back door opened and Joss wandered in. He was studying a ragged-looking piece of paper in his hand, but when he glanced up and saw Carolyn, he quickly stuffed the paper into his hip pocket.

Carolyn stared at him. Was it her imagination or had he looked guilty for one split second? His bulky sweater covered both pocket and paper, and she couldn't see a thing. She raised her eyes and saw him staring back at her.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

The memory of his kiss came back to her, and her cheeks warmed. She saw her jacket on the back of a chair and went over to pick it up, trying to keep her voice casual.

“Okay. I'm going into the village for a while.”

Petty things … unimportant things … when really, what she wanted to say was
Let's talk about what happened last night, let's talk about the accident, about the widow's walk, about the way you held me and why you acted so weird afterward and who you are and where you came from
—
and what's on that paper you obviously don't want me to see
—

“I could have let you fall,” he said, and it was so sudden, so totally unexpected, that Carolyn gaped at him.


What?

“If I'd wanted to hurt you,” Joss went on matter-of-factly, “which is what you're wondering right now, then I would have let you fall. I wouldn't have tried to save you.”

Carolyn was speechless. She saw his lips ease into a smile, but there was no humor at all in his eyes. Shaken, she went back to the parlor and told Andy she was ready to go.

The festival was already gearing up when they got there. As they wandered through the village, Carolyn was glad Andy had talked her into coming. Booths were doing a brisk business, musicians were warming up on every corner, and the streets were rapidly filling with people. For several hours they took in the sights, till Andy finally managed to drag her over to the food carts.

“I'm starving, Carolyn! I haven't eaten all morning!”

To her surprise, Carolyn realized she hadn't eaten, either.

“What's your pleasure?” Andy grinned. “My treat.”

“Then I'll have one of everything.” Carolyn laughed. “And seconds to go with it.”

Andy made a face and quickly scanned the tempting variety of food vendors.

“There's an unbelievable line at the Mexican booth right now—but I sure could use some tacos.”

At Carolyn's nod, he dashed off through the crowds, leaving her to wait on the corner. She recognized the street as she stood there, and knowing it would take Andy a while to get back, Carolyn walked the last two blocks to the library. Jean was at the front desk and asked about Carolyn's mother, then seemed surprised when Carolyn asked her about the books she'd promised to find.

“I thought you picked them up already,” Jean informed her, and this time it was Carolyn's turn to be surprised.

“No,” Carolyn said. “I haven't even been in since yesterday.”

“I had them here at the desk for you,” Jean went on, bewildered. “I had to leave early yesterday, but I'm sure my assistant said she called your house and left a message.”

“I never got it,” Carolyn told her.

“Well, the books were gone this morning.” Jean sighed in exasperation. “Not that I think they've been stolen—but wouldn't you know someone would just come in and take them when they were meant for someone else!”

Jean promised to track them down and get back with her, and after thanking her for all her trouble, Carolyn went back outside. She stood for a minute on the sidewalk, thinking about the books and the message she never got. Then, as she glanced up again, she saw a movement at the front window of the library and recognized Molly McClure.

“Molly!” Carolyn called. She waved and saw Molly lift one hand. She started to yell again and ask Molly to come out and join them for lunch, when suddenly Carolyn sensed someone behind her.

“Hi,” a deep voice spoke, and Carolyn whirled around, looking up into Joss's face.

“Joss! What are you doing here?”

At first he didn't answer. Then he gestured toward the intersection at the bottom of the hill.

“I needed some things at the hardware store.” His dark eyes narrowed, scanning the crowds. He seemed uneasy. “Where's your friend?”

“Getting something to eat.” Carolyn hesitated, then said, “Do you want to have lunch with us?”

“I can't. I have too much to do.”

He was making her nervous, and Carolyn glanced anxiously at the food carts. She could see Andy paying at the register, and then she saw his quick double take as he noticed who she was talking to.

“Are you sure?” she asked Joss again. “We could find a table somewhere and sit down.”

He shook his head and stepped back. He ran one hand through his hair, and his gaze traveled slowly up the sidewalk, where it suddenly stopped. Carolyn followed the direction of his stare and saw Molly sagging tiredly in the library window.

“I have to go,” Joss said abruptly. “I'll see you back at the house.”

To Carolyn's dismay, he headed into the crowds. By the time Andy returned, Joss had completely disappeared.

“Hey,” Andy said, coming up with three bulging sacks of food. “Where's your friend?”

“He had to go,” Carolyn replied uneasily.

“Thought he was too busy to come in today.”

“He needed some things at the store,” Carolyn said. She bit into the taco Andy gave her, but she was still staring at the crowds. Not a trace of Joss.

“Well,” Andy teased, chewing thoughtfully on an enchilada and making a face, “he doesn't know what he's missing. All this good grease.”

“He seemed kind of nervous,” Carolyn said, missing the joke.

“Yeah? Wonder why?”

Carolyn shook her head and reached for Andy's arm.

“Can we find someplace to sit down? I want to tell you what happened last night.”

She waved again to Molly as they passed the library, and felt Andy nudge her as he pointed to a spot up the street.

“Look—there's a bench. Grab it!”

They hurried over before anyone else came along, then sat down and spread out their picnic between them.

Carolyn stared at Andy and sighed.

“I don't know why I'm telling you this. I don't even know what's going on. It sounds stupid when I try to put it into words.”

Andy groaned. “I knew it. Joss asked you to run away with him, and you're going.”

“What?” Carolyn pulled back in surprise. “No!”

“Hmmm,” Andy mused, studying her face. “But you
blushed
just now, so something tells me I'm not going to hear
every
detail about what happened last night.”

Carolyn pointedly ignored him. “I fell off the widow's walk. In the middle of the storm.”


What!
” Now it was Andy's turn to look surprised. “What—are you
crazy
, Carolyn? What were you doing up there in the first place—don't you know that thing's falling apart?”

“I know, I know, you don't have to remind me. Just be quiet, and let me finish.”

Andy settled back on the bench and crossed his arms over his chest, nodding at her to go on. Carolyn told the story as simply and factually as she could—the attic door—the voice—the light—her fall—her rescue. She left out the part about Joss's kiss.

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